


"...I missed you."

by maybeillride



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beware - Nanase Haruka may grade you during sex, Blow Jobs, Excerpt from my author fic, Haru's a hipster..., M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Sousuke's totally loaded, That's a decent straight-porn standalone, no pun intended ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2782121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nanase steps into the room, Sousuke’s keyed-up visuals instantly registering the extreme side-sweep to his hair that makes him look like some mega-rich beautiful trust-fund kid, somehow; an impression clashing horribly with his t-shirt saying “I’M with STUPID!” with an arrow pointing down to his crotch. Pair of the skinniest skinny-jeans – chartreuse – he’s ever seen in his life, and those legs just never stop. His ears were right: flip-flop sandals again. </p><p>And blue, blue eyes widening in sudden almost-shock as Sousuke slides forward and sweeps him up off the ground, cradling him as he walks them over and falls onto him on his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"...I missed you."

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You and me could write a BAD romance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602475) by [maybeillride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride). 



> HI! Please enjoy this excerpt from an ongoing fic I'm doing. I just realized "Man, this part works pretty good as PWP. So why not share the love"...

He hears the front door swing very slowly open, hesitantly, a few minutes after nine. He’s ready, naked, insanely hard, cock practically ready to jump off his body and form its own colony somewhere else. Oozing precum, glistening and anticipating in the light from the big bedroom windows, heavy drapes open. He leans against the wall, next to the bedroom door where it’s slightly ajar, leaning his swimming head against the wall too, head full of Nanase.

He’s so worked up, his senses are so cranked he hears the door swing almost like he’s right there in the foyer, by his sideboard, watching the door open revealing him in whatever totally nuts thing he’s wearing today. But he’s not there, and so he hears-sees Nanase’s slow footsteps in, soft like he’s got sandals or something on. Then he hears him. “…Yamazaki? Oi, big guy?” Carrying through his clean and empty great room. Smooth. Low. Baritone. He wonders if he ever really noticed Nanase’s baritone before – this is like some sensory-deprivation thing, this is forcing him to pay attention to stuff he misses and he’s realizing how attractive his voice is. And how unexpected it is coming from that little guy…

The footsteps pause and suddenly his cell is ringing on the bedside table – some aggressive techno thing, he chose it to always force him to answer. He hears a “Hmmm…” from the great room, thoughtful, to himself, as the soft steps pick back up and now he hears the swish of clothes as Nanase heads towards the source of the ringtone.

Towards the bedroom door that’s slightly open, that he pushes gingerly like he doesn’t want to wake Yamazaki up if he’s napping. Which he isn’t.

Nanase steps into the room, Sousuke’s keyed-up visuals instantly registering the extreme side-sweep to his hair that makes him look like some mega-rich beautiful trust-fund kid, somehow; an impression clashing horribly with his t-shirt saying “ _I’M with STUPID!”_ with an arrow pointing down to his crotch. Pair of the skinniest skinny-jeans – chartreuse – he’s ever seen in his life, and those legs just never stop. His ears were right: flip-flop sandals again.

And blue, blue eyes widening in sudden almost-shock as Sousuke slides forward and sweeps him up off the ground, cradling him as he walks them over and falls onto him on his bed. The look of shock hasn’t left Nanase’s face and he’s suddenly afraid the guy’s afraid, or stunned; so he lays big hands on the sides of his fine-boned face, gazing down, says the first thing that comes to mind.

Which is so NOT HIM.

“…I missed you.”

Nanase gets a weird expression, a sly little smile but a softening of his eyes, a squint. “How the fuck can you miss me. We just spent like 12 hours together Tuesday.” His hands – smooth, slim hands – have found their way to Sousuke’s shoulders and he’s rubbing them, very gently.

Sousuke shrugs against Nanase’s hands, leans suddenly in and plunders his mouth, just ransacks it like a crooked vice squad tossing an apartment for drugs, slick and wet and hot and jagged against his teeth. He pulls up to gasping below him and keeps on talking like there was no break. “Too long.”

“You damn pervert, Yamazaki,” he bitches out of breath, perfect red cheeks totally giving him away, and Sousuke can’t look away from his mouth now, that mouth that’s ridiculous, _he’s got the mouth of a damn heroine on the cover of a romance novel,_ all palest pink and tiny and shaped like a sugar rose on top of a cake.

He dives back in and sticks out his tongue, traces an ear with the very tip, can feel Nanase almost thrumming all along his naked body. Can feel a hardness growing against his low-belly. Again….all talk. Good.

He quits his softest lick and whispers in his ear: “I need you. Now. Is that OK?”

Nanase’s Adam’s apple jumps as he swallows. His baritone is soft. “You know, for sex-talk, that was passable but pretty lame. I’d say, mmm, a C. You wanna try again?” He’s biting his lip. The little shit.

He sits back from Nanase, suddenly, popping his fly on _yet another absurd pair of pants_ (does he own stock or something…???) and yanking them off. He sees the expected jammers in their usual spot and can’t help it – he busts out laughing and it’s completely worth it for the sheer murder on his pretty face.

“What?? So I give a shit about fitness! That’s funny to you?” he’s grousing, petulant, and Sousuke just laughs harder and shakes his head at what a little kid he is. He also knows they have a show to get on the road and slips the suit off his slim, perfect hips, he’d drool if he gave himself the time, he has no time, he has a _mission._

”Ya don’t like my sex-talk, eh?” he muses, then holds Nanase’s pretty, tapered cock delicately in his index finger and thumb like it’s a fine cigar, before sinking in and taking his entire length in one go.

“Ohhhh!!!” he hears above him as two – smooth, slim – hands get lost in his hair. Sousuke pauses where he is for a moment, somehow smiling around the man’s decent length, realizing something. At this moment, here, he’s _happy._ The hands on his skull are practically vibrating in their excitement and … their emotional overload, he thinks. He’s making Nanase feel like this. _Nanase,_ which – on the surface – is basically making a cyborg crack. Or a superspy. Or a cyborg superspy. Hmmm, there’s a book idea…

He huffs a little chuckle as he draws slowly, so slowly up his length, and Nanase whacks him on the side of his head. Sousuke lets his dick fall out of his mouth, rubbing his head and smirking.

“You fucking laughing at me? Jerk. You a piece of work, ya know that?” Sousuke HAS to peek up quick before starting again, at Nanase’s angry mask, with the contradicting dancing eyes glinting through, sugar lips red instead of pink now. Ahhh it’s a look he could take to his grave and be happy about.

“I would say sorry if I was, but I’m not, so...this’ll have to do –” And he’s attacking his cock this time, trying to pull back as many negative-Gs with the sheer power of his mouth as he can, traveling up and down the rapidly-hardening shaft as the lithe man writhes on his bed. He lets him. The lushest sweetest sounds keep spilling around his ducked head as he’s hard at his task, his sort of payment, some part of his mind helpfully taking them in and recording them for future use.

He draws back with a _pop_ this time and the murderous look he gets is for a very different reason. He paces – very aware of how good he looks, naked, shiny with the littlest sheen of sweat, he isn’t a buckets-of-sweat kind of guy – over to the bedside and returns with the lube, a few condoms. He feels the weight of the cobalt eyes the whole way there and back, and when he settles back Nanase looks fucking _hungry._ His look alone gives Sousuke’s dick a warning twitch, and he wonders the last time a look almost did him in.

He wants the totally ridiculous (but sort of hilarious and apropos) shirt off him. NOW. He reaches out, reflexively, then stops himself. Nanase’s confused. “You take it off,” he says, and his voice is embarrassingly thick, and he doesn’t care. Nanase does a tiny shrug – that’s 100% him – and reaches for his collar to pop out of the shirt. Sousuke sits back, the same mini-striptease he gave Nanase happening for him, watching with interest as he shows Sousuke his milky abs, his firm and somehow discreet pecs, each crowned with a perfect pink nipple, reminding him of Nanase’s lips, the image of sugar roses unable to leave his mind. The shirt continues off and Nanase keeps his arms up there too, like he doesn’t even have the strength to bring them back, boxing his head, his black hair a complete mess like he’s seen so often on him _but never in this context._

And oh, how he could get used to this context.

He can’t help sinking down, tasting the dramatic hollow of his throat, sucking each clavicle, thumbs stroking half-circles under his pecs. Nanase’s panting lightly, quietly, and he’s wrapping his legs – as long, long as they’ve seemed in his fantasies – firmly around his hips. Like a woman. Flexible. Firm pressure of two heels against his upper thighs, still pleasantly sore from the weightlifting this morning. Their two cocks whispering against each other, almost too much heat and pressure together, like it could be dangerous.

His tongue heads south and he follows, straight down the defined line of his abdominals, a muscular guy for sure, hiding in his weird hipster clothes, swimming in that giant Army jacket. He hits Nanase’s cock and thinks, _he’s waited,_ and is gentle this time. Gentle, just the tip of his almost angry-hard length, that’s all it takes more times than not. He does nothing to hold those hips back – if the slim man wants to thrust, or move around, he’ll go with it – and sucks it inside. Salty, firm, and also soft – like a horse’s nose, if he wants to be pathetically (or maybe creepily) poetic about it. And it’s not like Sousuke’s a big horseman anyway….

He softly rotates his head, dipping his tongue in to taste him again with each twist, one hand firmly stroking his shaft, the other palming his balls. Not too far from that fateful first hand job – with the addition of his lips almost kissing the tip. Nanase’s apparently forgiven him, hands back in his hair which weirdly feels so good, subtly bringing his hips from the bed with each stroke and moaning helplessly. He doesn’t say a word or make a sound to warn Sousuke that he’s coming, which is just _so damn Nanase,_ and he’s lucky he’s had plenty of experience in the subject and is ready to take him in, drinking him down, his spurts almost violent and not-too bitter.

Nanase is full-on panting as he releases him, boxed arms pulled down over his eyes. He sits back and memorizes the sight for a moment, before settling back down between his legs, drawing the little man’s feet onto his shoulders. Nanase moves bonelessly. He reaches out, slicks his fingers with lube. Above him, the panting has slowed and Nanase takes a huge sigh. “Yep, I was too hasty,” he practically _purrs._ “You’re a solid C+. Maybe even a B-.”

“OK, _asshole –_ ” he growls through gritted teeth and this time it’s Nanase smirking, until he slides his middle finger in, deep. He gets a gasp for that, firm hands on his shoulders (that somehow ease up instantly without a squeeze, and he wonders how Nanase would know to do that). He’s always been a tease when he uses his fingers; he understands exactly where everything is and how someone will react when he works them. He’s sure Nanase will be no exception, as he eases his index finger in too (sooner than Sousuke expects) and works up a familiar rhythm, tickling and stroking and _stretching._ He’s totally absorbed in the sight of his hand – three-fingers-deep now – disappearing into Nanase, the light tan of his skin contrasting against Nanase’s white, coffee and cream. He watches his hole expand to accommodate him and finally can’t stand it any longer, pulling his hand back and glancing up at what he’s sure will be a sweaty, disheveled, _ruined –_

Nanase’s watching him with a sort of breathless yet kind detachment, like a dad letting his kid demonstrate _that thing_ for the hundredth time at the pool. Sousuke frowns up at him and Nanase just blinks back.

“So…” Nanase starts, slowly. “Are we doing it here? Or did you have something else in mind?”

Now Sousuke’s the one just blinking, but his dick is still firmly on board, so he shrugs and grabs a foil packet, unrolls it down and lubes himself, rewarded with a widening of those eyes. He crawls up his body. “This is a good place to start. Then we can see what happens,” he reasons, reaching over his head to grab a pillow and bringing it down to tuck under Nanase’s hips. He lifts up for it immediately, the mark of an erotica writer or porn user (or both).

“Thanks,” he breathes, and suddenly he’s Shy-Nanase, hair tumbling free over his forehead in a black spill, feathering into his incredible, out-of-this-world eyes as his cheeks pink and he bites a lip again. Sousuke lurches forward, covering him carefully and resting on his elbows, using his fingertips to brush the hair out of his eyes.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Sousuke threads an arm under Nanase’s shoulders, cradles his head; two slender arms come immediately up around his broad back, two long long legs are back up around his hips, fitting naturally, like they belong there. He reaches his other hand between them and guides himself to Nanase’s hole, pushes. He brings the hand up to cup the side of his face, fingers in the black strands.

Nanase’s breathing fast. Maybe a little too fast, but his eyes are burning and he reaches his chin up, awkwardly initiates a sloppy kiss as Sousuke just keeps sliding deeper and deeper. Nanase gasps right against his lips – “Ah!!” – and he gets the hint and waits, leans in and learns his full jawline with his lips. Nibbles an earlobe, listens and is happy when the chest fluttering against his calms. He sucks hard on the lobe as he falls in further, and then Nanase breathes “ahhhh” into his ear and it’s light-years-different from the other one. So low. So deep. Almost as deep as he’s inside the other swimmer now, deep as he can go, he’s almost surprised he can given their size difference but he fits perfectly in there, Nanase takes him in surprisingly well, God, he could _live_ in Nanase’s heat.

Sousuke shifts around, gets both arms under him, holds Nanase on his forearms as he pulls back on his shoulders. Nanase seems to get what’s coming and shifts too, rocks his obscenely flexible pelvis up – the move making Sousuke groan – and reinforces his legs’ grip, locking his ankles.

“You know, I don’t have much…experience with…this.” Gaspy. “But I’m pretty sure I like it rough.”

Sousuke almost swallows his tongue.

He’s not done. “Just…just so you know.”

Sousuke doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s no monster, this guy’s a baby, he starts with smooth, even, deep strokes, and Nanase’s got his hands clutched together on his back – tight – and keeps breathing “mmm…” into his ear like he’s eating the best thing ever. That alone – those teeny tiny “mmm’s” – are driving Sousuke insane, he’s never heard that before during sex, that totally relaxed unabashed release. That letting _go._ He finds himself hit by sudden weird jealousy of Nanase – he’s _never_ felt that way having sex, and it can’t be a top-vs.-bottom thing, since he’s done both. Plenty.

The sounds stop for a second, and then there are little teeth – sharp – on his own earlobe. _Hard._

Sousuke growls from deep in his chest, like an animal, and then he’s speeding the pace, not holding back, digging into the bed with his knees and pulling back, back on Nanase’s shoulders, _slamming_ them together. Nanase’s blues are huge, a string of breathless “Ah!”s pushes from his parted sugar lips in time with his punishing strokes, and his hands are using Sousuke’s ass (not his back) as their anchor, and his hips are rocking with Sousuke’s, keeping up, holding on. Their motion is almost furious, like they’re putting all their anger towards each other into it, and at the same time Sousuke feels pained by having to decide: bury his face in his shoulder and lose _that face,_ or look up and miss the dark comfort of rocking into Nanase with his face against the blackness of his hair?

He feels his orgasm build, and starts to pull away to reach Nanase’s cock – but iron-grip hands keep him down. “No…no,” he gasps into Sousuke’s ear and even by his breathing he sounds close. “S-stay.”

Sousuke buries his head again, speeds up his pace even more and now they’re gasping together, bass and baritone, and as he hits his climax he quietly gasps “Nanase!!” into his neck. He’s exploding into him, so deep, Nanase’s following with a breathy “Yama-ahhh!” and tipping his head full-back, white neck exposed, throat working.

He lies on top of Nanase for some unknown time, his hair is so soft and he doesn’t even want to move. He wonders if he actually fell _asleep_ on him when there’s a hard whack on his good shoulder.

“Do you mind?” Irritated.

Sousuke smirks, wiggles back and forth to get even more comfortable on his body-mattress. “Mmm, this is _so nice,_ I could stay all day…”

Nanase’s voice is totally unfazed from under him. “Oh, OK. Guess you won’t care if I do this –” And he _squeezes_ around Sousuke, still inside him, slamming down like a steel door.

Sousuke jumps like he’s electrocuted. “Fuck!”

“No thanks. I gave at the office,” Nanase says, total deadpan. Maybe a hint of a smile.

Sousuke surrenders and rolls off, pulls out, rolls onto his back. Nanase’s expression hardly changes at all. It’s both impressive and almost creepy. He sits up – gracefully – and carefully pulls Sousuke’s condom off. He can tell he’s concentrating on it and can’t help a tiny smile. It’s just so cute.

Condom in hand, Nanase crawls off the bed and heads directly for the master bath. Sousuke stretches out, crosses his hands behind his head as he enjoys the truly magnificent sight of Nanase Haruka leaving the room naked.

“You really are the biggest pain in my ass, you know that?” he calls from the bed.

“Hmmm. Have you met MY ass lately?” comes bouncing off the shower tiles.

Sousuke’s off the bed and out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> There ya have it - thanks so much for reading and commenting! If you enjoyed and would like to read "the plot around the porn" lol, please check out my fic, "You and me could write a BAD romance" <3


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